Not Used To
by VioTanequil
Summary: Sometimes, some people just need to be kicked in the butt. You’ll know they need it when they start to get on your nerves so bad that really, you don’t want to kick them in the butt. You don’t just want to kick them in the butt... light ShunsuiNanao.


Sometimes, _some _people just need to be kicked in the butt. You'll know they need it when they start to _get on your nerves_ so bad that really, you don't want to kick them in the butt. You don't _just_ want to kick them in the butt. You want to kick them where it hurts. Where it _really_ hurts. (Like, say, in the balls, perhaps?) And sometimes, you don't get to, which makes it all the more torturous. And sometimes, you just can't.

Because they _lack a proper posterior_ to be kicked, and the next best option is outlawed. Outlawed by some of the unwritten laws, the sacred guidelines, the holy rules… Yeah, you get what I mean. It's not allowed. It's _illegal_. You could lose your goddamn _job_. And why? Because they don't let you. They don't let you because they're all selfish bastards who want to kick that person's butt and not let you have the _satisfaction_ of doing it even though _you're_ the one who's most pissed off from it all.

Or because it wouldn't make sense to kick the next best option. It wouldn't make any sense to swing that really heavy book down on the _numbskull's_ skull, because really, if anyone other than the healers so much as _breathed_ on it, it's probably going to shatter into _half a million_ fragments.

Which brings you back the _square one_. The needing to be kicked in the butt part. It's so _irritating_, isn't it, that you want to smack some sense, beat some sense into the numbskull's brain, but you can't? Because even though you and the _whole damned world_ know that he deserves it, it's always better if he's _awake_ and _alive_ to have sense beaten into him, no?

_Asshole_. Knowing full well that it's not possible to take on _three_ Menos by yourself, _drunk_, and still going out to do it. Makes you wonder, really, what the hell was the Commander thinking when he put this numbskull up for captainship? Or was he not even thinking anymore? Even an _Academy_ student knows better. _All_ the Academy students _combined_ know better.

Hmph. _Stupid_. All of them are stupid, and you know it. If it were you, they'd all be cast out somewhere, _never_ to return again. Honestly, they're just endangering themselves and the _world_ out there. Really, what's with stupid people and not using their _brains_? Oh, right. They're _stupid_. Hmph.

And you don't really understand, because it's so _crapping_ irritating, and Ise Nanao never swears, really, when drunkard here disappears off and reappears _hours_ later, with a _stupid_ smile on his _stupid_ face, that _stupid_ smirk, and those _stupid_ ways. It's the knowing that he's _always _going to come back even when you can't find him that gives you time to sort things out.

And the time is well spent, _sneaking_ a nap when no one's around to see, taking a snack because you're hungry. It's refreshing, but it's _irritating_, because you know that unless you go out and _drag_ numbskull by that damned _pink_ haori back, he's going to turn up _eons_ too late for whatever it is he has later, and really, you _can't_ have that, _can_ you?

So you go out of the door, scowl fiercely at _anyone_ who _dares_ look remotely happy, intimidate them enough to make sure that _things get done_ when you're out there looking for the _most irresponsible_ of the lot. You plot and scheme of the various ways you can make sure numbskull _actually does something_ when he's dragged back, but really, you _both_ know you're not going to do it.

You end up doing all the work again, anyway, while glaring at the _sleeping_ _pink_ _lump_ on the _damned_ couch. And pull an _all-nighter_ trying to finish the work which, had _someone_ not been so irresponsible, would have been finished eons ago. But oh well. As _depressing_ as the thought is, you're _used_ to it.

So you drag the stack of _neverending_ paperwork closer, dip a brush in ink, and fill up the forms _quietly_ and unobtrusively in the corner of the room, right next to the window, across from the _bed_ and the softly beeping _machines_.

And you wait. You wait for the _numbskull_ to wake up, because really, you're used to him _sleeping_ on the damn _couch_, across the _room_, wrapped in that same damn _pink_ haori, not _drugged_ on a _bed_ and dressed in hospital _white_.

You're not used to it, and _damn_, you really can't stand it.

* * *

My muse ran off on its own. Again. I really should be studying for exams, no?


End file.
